Always Watching
by Copycat
Summary: Nigel gets caught on camera being naughty. Everybody knows Harry enjoys a peep show, but Nikki is less amused. To begin with. Sexual content, but nothing too graphic. Read at your own discretion, you have been warned.


AUTHOR: Copycat (Lizzy)  
RATING: T  
CLASSIFICATION: Nikki/Harry, Friendship, Romance  
SPOILERS: Specific references to _Safe_ and _Peripheral Vision_.  
SUMMARY: Nigel gets caught on camera being naughty. Everybody knows Harry enjoys a peep show, but Nikki is less amused. To begin with. Sexual content, but nothing too graphic. Read at your own discretion, you have been warned.  
DISCLAIMER: The BBC owns everything you recognise. And probably some things you don't.

This is completely random and has absolutely no redeeming value at all. It was inspired by charlotte88's Harry/Nikki clip of _Safe_ on YouTube. I must have watched that a hundred times, and it still makes me laugh. "Shit." Ha ha ha ha ha.

I don't know how likely it is that Nigel would get his freak on in public like this, but whatever. He was the one whose name I remembered.

* * *

When Nikki came back with the sandwiches that were to get them through a long evening of paperwork, Harry was leaning against the desk, watching the CCTV feed on the screen mounted on the wall, his head cocked to one side, a slight grin on his face.

She dropped the sandwiches on the desk. "They were out of tuna, so I got you chicken salad instead, I hope that's okay," she told him.

He mumbled his assent, still not taking his eyes off the screen.

"What are you looking at?" She turned to the screen for the first time and then did a double take. "Is that Nigel?!"

The picture was a bit grainy but there was no mistaking the identity of the man, even if he did have his head buried in the neck of some woman, who was pressed up against a parked car, her head thrown back in pleasure. Nigel's coat had come off his shoulders, and the woman's skirt had crawled up her thigh quite a few inches. Clearly they had been at it for a while.

"Mhmm." Harry's grin got wider as Nigel picked up the woman and seated her on the bonnet of the car. She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him in for another kiss. "And his girlfriend."

"How do you know it's his _girlfriend_?" Nikki asked moving to sit next to him to get a better view of the screen.

Harry snorted with laughter. "Well, I sure as hell _hope_ it's his girlfriend, because he told me she was coming down from Manchester and would be picking him up from work today." He looked briefly at Nikki and then back at the screen. "So if that isn't her, she's in for a pretty nasty surprise when she does get here."

She grinned. "I didn't know he had a girlfriend."

"Oh, he only tells that to people he _likes_," Harry joked.

Nikki laughed and nudged him with her shoulder. He nudged her back, and then resettled with his shoulder resting against hers.

Nigel's girlfriend pushed at his coat and it fell to the ground. She pulled his shirt out of his pants and let her hands roam up and down his back.

"Hmm," Harry said, with mingled amusement and fascination. "Do you think they'd get a fine if a cop showed up?"

"They should," Nikki decided after a few moments' consideration. "How long have you been watching them?"

Harry shrugged. "About ten minutes, I think."

She snorted with laughter. "Perv."

He grinned. "Look who's talking. At least I'm not the one performing for the camera."

"What do you mean?" She frowned.

He pressed a button and the CCTV feed changed to a split screen showing four different locations. He pointed to the bottom left corner of the screen. "You and... Ryan. Although that performance was slightly less graphic, I'll admit."

Nikki frowned, racking her brain to remember what he was talking about, and then a blush crept up her cheeks as realisation dawned on her. She had met Ryan right there that first night. She looked at Harry, mortified. "You were _watching_?"

He laughed, taking obvious pleasure in her discomfort.

"Perv," she repeated, no longer amused.

"I repeat, I'm not the one putting on a show for the CCTV cameras."

"There's CCTV everywhere, Harry," she argued feebly. "You can't snog anyone without a camera picking up on it."

"There are no cameras in here," he reminded her, waving a hand to indicate the surveillance free room in general.

The conclusion to that statement hit them both as their eyes met, their faces only a few inches apart. Harry grimaced in amused embarrassment and shifted so their arms were no longer touching.

"So this is where you bring all your 25-year-olds?" Nikki asked smiling, bringing the conversation back on a safer track.

"No, I take them home, actually," Harry replied. "I've got manners."

On the screen Nigel and his girlfriend had apparently decided that they had manners, too, and had managed to let go of each other long enough to get in the car. Nigel had turned on the engine and the lights, but the car wasn't moving.

The view of the lovers was now completely obscured by the lights reflected in the cars' front window, and Nikki turned away. Harry was still watching the screen as if waiting for something else to happen.

"Get off it, Harry," she told him, exasperated.

Harry snorted. "I think it's probably Nigel who's getting off."

She shook her head at him, refusing to laugh.

Giving up on Nigel and his girlfriend Harry finally turned around and picked up his sandwich. He still looked amused by what he had just seen.

Nikki took a bite of her own sandwich as she watched Harry unwrap his, a frown on her face. She chewed carefully opened her mouth to take another bite and then shut it.

"What?" He asked, his smirk finally fading.

"Were you really watching the whole time?"

He glanced briefly at the screen and shrugged. "They didn't look as if they minded anyone seeing."

She shook her head. "No. I meant me. And Ryan. Were you _watching_ us?"

She looked genuinely concerned by the thought and he smiled, hoping it looked reassuring rather than mocking. "Not _watching_, watching. I saw two people going at it, and then I realised it was you. I was a bit surprised," he admitted, playing down his own reaction.

She opened her mouth to object to his description of what she had been doing, but then closed it. He had seen it for himself, after all, there was no point trying to deny anything.

"I'm sorry," he said, not really sounding it. "But if you didn't want anyone to see you, maybe you should have gone somewhere more private."

"We did," she mumbled to herself.

He nearly choked on a mouthful of chicken salad on rye. He had figured as much, of course. The guy had shown up at the lab, after all. "I meant to begin with."

Nikki shrugged, chewing another bite of her sandwich with much more care than was really necessary. "I can't believe you never told me you saw."

Harry frowned. "What was I supposed to say? It was none of my business. _I_ respect _your_ privacy, after all," he teased.

She grinned and glanced at the screen. "Clearly you don't."

His eyes narrowed. "Well, when you shove your sex life in my face, what can I do?" He was joking, but to his own ears it sounded childish and whiny, and possibly ever so slightly jealous.

Her eyebrows shot up. She was still smiling, but the smile was incredulous rather than amused now. "I didn't _shove_ anything in your face, Harry. I kissed a guy behind the building. We were alone. How could I possibly have known that you were up here watching like some..." She trailed off, clearly unable to decide what exactly watching her make out made him.

"Perv," he suggested.

"Well, yes, frankly," she agreed. "Why would you even want to watch that?"

He snorted with laughter. "Morbid fascination?"

She shot him a withering look and he held up his hands in surrender.

"It's not as if I particularly wanted to see that," he admitted.

She softened instantly. "Sorry," she smiled.

"No, you weren't," he teased, taking a quick step backwards and out of her reach.

She laughed. "In future I promise not to engage in any kind of sexual activity anywhere near here."

"The entire Metropolitan police force will be weeping in their beds tonight."

"I didn't say I'd never have sex again," she reminded him. "I just said I wouldn't do it anywhere _you_ might get to see it."

"Oh, but I'm _always_ watching," he told her in the creepiest voice he could manage. Which, judging from her reaction, wasn't very creepy at all.

"You _are_ a perv," she told him, giggling.

"You have no idea," he assured her.

"I think I'm beginning to," she said glancing at the screen and then back at him.

He grinned suggestively, determined to keep this going until she was embarrassed. "Not really, though."

"You're a peeping Tom, who likes to be tied up," she told him matter-of-factly. "What else?"

For a mad second he thought about telling her exactly what else. His eyes even shot in the direction of the cutting room, but then he came to his senses. Sharing sexual fantasies with Nikki, _about_ Nikki, might not be the best idea in the world. He resigned himself to the fact that this was a game of chicken he would probably lose.

On the other hand, there was no need to tell her she was _in_ the fantasy. No need at all. He could just say, as a hypothetical, that having sex in the cutting room seemed slightly kinky. There was no law saying he had to mention that she was a recurring guest star in that particular fantasy.

No need to go into detail about how she would be wearing that black skirt he really liked on her, and the see-through top that he hadn't seen her wear in ages. Those black pumps with the spike heel.

Definitely no need to mention how she would walk up to him, a look of determination on her face, and pull his scrubs off him without a word and ravish him.

"Harry?" Nikki's voice brought him back to the present. She was standing in front of him now, less than a foot away. "Are you thinking about something right now?" Her voice was teasing, suggestive. He knew she was having a go at him.

He was leaning against the desk, trapped. He swallowed nervously. "No," he croaked, hating himself for being so pathetically affected by her proximity and their conversation.

"Liar," she said, barely able to contain her amusement. "Tell me."

He shook his head. "You couldn't handle it," he insisted, knowing it was the other way around.

Apparently she knew that, too. "I could always just guess," she suggested.

He shifted, desperate to get away. She noticed, but didn't move. "You were uncomfortable when you found out I had watched you make out with a guy," he told her in desperation. "You're not going to want to hear this."

She took two steps backwards, her eyes wide in surprise. "Is it about _me_?"

He wanted to kick himself. "No," he said, laughing slightly and not quite meeting her eye.

"It is," she marvelled. "You've fantasised about _me_."

"We're around each other every day. You're attractive, I'm a bloke. It's normal," he told her desperately. "Healthy, even."

She laughed at that and he smiled, comforted by the fact that she was amused rather than running away in disgust.

"Tell me about it," she said.

"No." He shook his head, determined.

"Oh, come on," she coaxed. "If I'm _in_ your fantasies I have a right to know what they are."

He snorted. "That's exactly why you _don't_ get to know about them."

She sighed, resigned. "At least tell me if I'm any good, then."

He smiled, shaking his head at her. "Very good," he assured her.

She looked into his eyes, trying to decide if he was teasing her, and he did his best to look both sincere and detached.

"How good?" She persisted.

"Shut up," he sighed. "Have you got the PM notes on the John Doe?"

"They're in the cutting room, I think," she said. "How good?"

"I'll go get them," he offered, pushing past her, happy for an excuse to get away.

He looked around the empty, sterile room for the papers they needed in order to finish their work so he could get the hell away from there.

When he finally located them next to one of the computers, he decided he might as well read though the notes in here, rather than in the office with Nikki.

That plan completely backfired, however, when she suddenly appeared in the doorway, watching him wordlessly, much as she always did in his fantasy.

He threw the notes down in frustration, shaking his head at the injustice of it all.

"What?" She asked, nothing at all like he imagined.

"Nothing. You just startled me," he lied.

"You didn't look very startled, you looked annoyed," she told him. "Were you hiding?"

"Yes," he said flatly.

She laughed. "That probably works better if you don't tell me where you're going," she suggested, walking over to him. "Have you got the tox report?"

She reached for the folder in his hands and he pulled away sharply before she could touch him. "Look, could we get out of here?"

She smiled, suddenly understanding. "Cutting room sex. That's your fantasy. That's why you're so uncomfortable. Because we're all alone here and now it's on your mind."

She was enjoying this entirely too much.

"You're wearing the wrong clothes, though," he told her, just to take her down a peg.

She looked down at her skinny jeans and green jumper, then waved a dismissive hand at his own somewhat similar, albeit more masculine, outfit. "Well, so are you," she told him.

He coughed in surprise. How did she know that? "What?"

She rolled her eyes, amused. "Did you really think you were the only one who has thought about it?"

"Yes," he said simply, his brain working overtime to process this information, trying to decide if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

He suspected it was probably bad, but he had a hard time convincing himself of that just now with Nikki standing just a few feet away from him, telling him that she too had fantasised about the two of them having sex in here.

"Well, obviously you're also not Leo," she told him. "So there is that as well."

He stared at her.

She laughed loudly at the incredulous look on his face.

"You're joking, right? Please tell me you're joking."

She shrugged but said nothing.

"Nikki," he insisted.

"What, are you jealous?"

"No. But I am feeling a bit queasy." He was. But that was probably because he was also jealous. How on earth could she fantasise about Leo instead of him?

She ignored him and walked over to the slab furthest from the door, placing her hands on it and pressing down, as if testing its strength. "Right here," she told him.

He tried to block the mental image. "What about Janet?"

"Oh, she isn't here," Nikki said dismissively. "I don't think she exists, actually. In the fantasy, I mean."

She turned around and hoisted herself up to sit on the slab, her lower legs dangling over the edge. Their eyes met across the room and he could see that she was nearly bursting with suppressed laughter.

"You _are_ joking," he said in relief.

She shook with laughter. "Oh, God. The look on your face." She tried to mimic his grimace but failed, breaking down laughing again.

He walked over to her and dropped the folder on the slab behind her, waiting for her laughter to subside. "So does that mean your fantasy _is_ about me?"

She looked at him, apparently surprised by his sudden proximity. "Umm."

He smiled, feeling that he was finally in on top. "Am _I_ any good, then?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "No, you're rubbish, actually."

"I am not," he laughed.

"Of course you're not. It's a _fantasy_, Harry. What would be the point of imagining having sex with a bad lover?"

"I don't know," he conceded. "To resist temptation, maybe?"

She laughed. A bit harshly, he thought. "The temptation to just jump your bones in the middle of a PM?"

"That would probably cause some problems. Evidence might get destroyed."

"Evidence would _definitely_ get destroyed," she told him.

He smiled. "So you really fantasise about us having sex surrounded by cops and dead bodies? And you call me a perv."

"I never said that," she told him. "No. We're stuck here after hours, doing paperwork. Everyone else has gone home so it's just the two of us."

He looked at her, trying to decide whether she was describing her fantasy or their current situation.

"So for some reason we end up in here and--" she hesitated, clearly deciding to skip ahead a bit in the story. "And then we have sex." She pointed to where they were positioned, him standing in front of her. All she'd have to do was move her legs a bit and she would have them wrapped around his hips. "Right here."

"Right," he said. So, definitely the fantasy.

She licked her lips nervously.

Lips that she had fantasised about kissing him with. Right here. He blinked but they were still there. And now they were curled up in a smile.

His eyes shifted upwards to meet hers. Her eyebrows were raised expectantly. "It's your turn," she told him.

"My turn to what?"

"Tell me your fantasy," she said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Maybe in her world it was.

In his world, however, it was never going to happen. Listening to her ridiculously short and un-graphic description was one thing, but even if he edited his own fantasy in a similar way the details he knew were supposed to be there would still be running through his head. And that would be a very bad thing just now. What with him being human and her being right there and all.

"Come on," she pressed. "Are you embarrassed?"

"No." He shook his head. "I just don't think this is such a good idea."

She looked upset, clearly worried that she had over-stepped the line.

"No, Nikki." He reached out a hand and softly brushed her hair out of her face. He had meant for the gesture to be comforting, not to send sparks up his own arm. "I just mean, I don't think I could tell you about it right now. Not when there's no one else around. It'd be too easy to..." He broke off, taking a deep breath and blowing out a lungful of air through his nose.

"To easy to what?" She asked, but from the look on her face he thought she knew already. It was impossible to tell if she was excited or amused by it, however.

"My favourite part of the fantasy," he told her and she perked up slightly, which made him grin as he went on. "Is that you don't say a word the whole time."

She pushed at his chest with both hands, grinning in spite of herself.

He grabbed hold of her wrists and forced her arms down. "It's great," he went on. "But at the same time, there's no way I can make myself believe it's real, even for a second."

"Jerk," she said.

He grinned. "See, if this had been a fantasy, you wouldn't have said that."

She moved her arms backward and he was forced to either let go or move closer. He took a step forward and bumped into the hard edge of the slab. Her knees were resting against his hips on either side. This was probably too close. He let go of her wrists and tried to take a step back but she had wrapped her legs around him, effectively trapping him between her thighs.

"Tell me," she insisted.

"Nikki." He was getting annoyed now by her insistent refusal to understand that he couldn't tell her. The fact that there were only a few layers of clothing separating fantasy and reality didn't make things any easier at all.

She leaned up, her mouth less than a centimetre from his. "Tell me," she breathed. "Please."

He could feel her short breaths against his face, almost perfectly timed with his own too rapid heartbeat.

How could he possibly be expected to resist this kind of temptation? Clearly she didn't want him to resist.

There was no way she would wrap herself around him like that, and lick her lips like that, her mouth so close to his that she was nearly licking his lips, too, if she hadn't wanted him to react to it.

She wouldn't have pushed this fantasy game so far if she hadn't wanted it to get to this point. She would have dropped it back in the office, at the first sign of his pupils dilating.

Her own eyes were almost all pupil. But now they were no longer looking at him expectantly. Instead they were moving away from him as she shifted backwards and let her legs drop from around his hips.

"Right," she said, flushed with arousal and humiliation. She pressed against his hips with her knees to get him to move away.

He stood his ground. "In my fantasy, you're more patient," he told her, lying outright. In his fantasy she didn't need to be, because he wasn't such a useless wanker.

She opened her mouth to retort, but before she could get out a single word his lips had descended on hers and he was kissing her, his tongue forcing its way into her mouth before she had a chance to close it.

Her legs wrapped themselves around him again and she kissed him back, moaning against his mouth.

He tugged at her jumper, only realising after a few failed attempts that he would need to stop kissing her in order to get it over her head. She grunted her disapproval when he pulled away, but then she understood and raised her arms over her head.

She leaned up to kiss him again before breaking away to pull off his jumper and throwing it unceremoniously to the floor.

"So whose fantasy is this, then?" He asked her in between shallow breaths.

She smiled, pulling his t-shirt over his head. "No-one's. This is reality."

* * *

She was lying back on the slab, shivering from its coldness. She smiled at him and he leaned down to kiss her lazily, resting his elbows on either side of her head as he waited to be able to stand up on his own without his legs buckling.

"That was terrible," she told him.

He snorted with laughter. "Thank you."

She grinned. "No, I didn't mean that. Less than an hour ago I promised you I'd never have sex anywhere you could see me. I've already managed to break that promise."

He shrugged awkwardly. "I forgive you," he assured her and kissed the tip of her nose.

"That's good," she said, nibbling at his stubbly chin. "Because there's something else."

"What?"

She pointed at the wall behind him and he turned his head. "That is definitely a camera," she told him.

"Brilliant," he said, turning back to her and kissing her again. "Do you think they'd let me have a copy of the tape?"

_End_


End file.
